History of Argentine Winemaking

Cultivation of the semi-arid plain of Mendoza by means of irrigation transformed its appearance dramatically. There is evidence that the Incas once governed this land and brought with them their renowned genius for hydrodynamics. Some of their most typical methods of water flow regulation, such as triangular obstruction regulators, are still in use today. Attitudes towards water use, such as water being public property open to use by all and not to be abused by the rich and powerful, can also be traced back to Inca laws. By the time Mendoza began receiving Spanish immigrants the irrigation system had been adapted by indigenous Huarpes tribes. They had harnessed what were to become known as the Mendoza, Tunuyán, Atuel and Diamante rivers, metamorphosing the landscape.

Early documents suggest that in 1556 the inhabitants of the province of Santiago del Estero welcomed a Spanish priest called Juan Cidrón, who had arrived in Argentina via La Serena, Chile. He brought with him cotton and grain seeds as well as vine stalks. These he planted and tended, almost certainly becoming Argentina's first winemaker. It is likely that this early Spanish-American grape variety was the same as was introduced in Chile and California. In Argentina it is now known as Criolla, in Chile as País and in California as Mission. Several records attest to the fact that the vine was well established in Mendoza by the 16th century. Although these early vineyards were small and almost exclusively for local consumption, word was spreading that the wines they made were better than those which were being produced elsewhere in Argentina. By the 18th century a trickle of trade with Buenos Aires, already a growing market for wine, can be detected.

Things progressed slowly until 1880 when the French botanist, Aimé Pouget, introduced the first French varieties. Then in 1885 the British opened the first railway linking Mendoza with Buenos Aires. This afforded winemakers of Mendoza a revolutionary quick and safe means of getting their wines to an ever thirstier capital city. One negative consequence of Buenos Aires's large demand for wine was the tendency for wine producers in Mendoza to set their sights on high volume production rather than quality. That there was sufficient knowledge to make quality wines is evident in Las viñas y los vinos en Mendoza, ("Vines and Wines in Mendoza"), a book published in 1884 by Eusebio Blanco. It is clear that the wines produced in the region did little to satisfy the palates of those Argentines who had tried finer European products. Convinced that Mendoza had the potential to match Europe, Blanco's son-in-law, Tiburcio Benegas, set about improving every element of wine making in Mendoza. His bodega, called El Trapiche (not to be confused with today's Bodega Trapiche which has bought the right to use the name), with 250 hectares of European varietal vineyards, is one of the early monuments to American oenology.

It may seem almost inconceivable that such a vast and important vinicultural centre as Mendoza has not pulled its weight more in international markets. The truth is that it has sometimes had its work cut out simply trying to supply internal Argentine demand. At one stage Argentine per capita wine consumption topped 90 liters per year. Now that this figure has dropped to 40 liters per capita per year the winemakers are beginning to turn their attention to overseas buyers.

There have been important factors that have slowed Mendoza's emergence onto world markets. Strained foreign relations, a volatile currency, high labour and shipping costs have all taken their toll. Two serious set-backs in the 1980s also damaged self-confidence. In 1980 the huge Grupo Greco, financed by their own bank, collapsed, bankrupting Bodega Arizu that had until then been the world's largest vineyard. To this day you can see the heartbreaking sight of vast, overgrown vineyards and abandoned workers' houses. In 1988 the government-sponsored Giol group, an attempt to stabilize the market by controlling a very large segment of it also crashed, causing widespread despondency. Perhaps the most curious impediment to wine export has been the unique dichotomy that exists between Argentine tastes and those of overseas buyers. Argentine's prefer their wines vinous, that is to say very low in tannins, fruit and acidity (except sometimes the less welcome volatile kind). They like to smell old, damp wood. No Argentine winemaker is in a position to ignore a customer that single-handedly sustains the world's fifth largest wine industry. Hence most winemakers produce two styles of wine, one for the home market and one for export. Most of Mendoza's producers believe that home and foreign tastes will merge at some stage in the not too distant future as Argentine consumers learn more about quality wine-making and adapt to cleaner, brighter wines. Some are actually subtly changing their home-market wines to coax consumers into drinking better made wines.

Producers in Mendoza take comfort from the fact that if wine consumption in Argentina has dropped sharply, the consumption of quality wines has actually risen. This has caused them to have greater faith in the changes they are implementing. They have been ripping up high yield varieties in favor of smaller yield, high quality vines. So as to better vinify the grapes, massive investment has been channeled towards new equipment and facilities. Vineyards have by no means been left out of the equation, either.

Traditionally most of the vines in Mendoza have been trained. Two systems of training are favored: the espaldera, or normal, tall wire training; and the parral, or high, overhead training. These systems have been adopted to try and avoid late frost damage on the budding shoots. Both systems are costly and labour intensive, but they do allow for some excellent viticultural possibilities. First of all, grape bunches can be exposed to maximum sunlight and good ventilation. Second, non-useful or damaged foliage can be easily removed, creating a healthy canopy. Third, mechanical picking can be readily introduced into the vineyards.

Perhaps the area that has absorbed most minds is that of hail protection. Heavy downpours have been known to destroy entire harvests in stricken areas, leaving the vines lacerated, split open and liable to infection. Having tried and rejected all sorts of curious meteorological methods, including strange-looking Russian (supposedly anti-hail) rockets, most growers have opted for one of two methods. Either they have covered their prize vines with anti-hail trailed mesh or they have bought another vineyard somewhere else so as to halve their chances of being totally wiped out. Both methods cost about the same in Mendoza.

Although Phylloxera does exist - you can see the mites clinging onto vitis vinifera roots when you pull them up - they seem to be kept well in check by the flood irrigation methods used to water the vineyards. Those people who have installed drip irrigation methods, an increasing trend which, naturally, helps to save water, have all planted their vines on resistant American root-stock, aware that the change in irrigation will doubtlessly presage a worsening Phylloxera situation.

The waters of the Andes are pollution free. Brilliant sunshine and dry weather mean that fungicide spraying is almost unnecessary. Some vineyards use herbicides to keep weeds at bay, but by and large Mendoza vineyard care is natural and well attuned to modern health and ecological considerations.